Fate: America
by Shogun Rouge Act 2
Summary: Many years after the Holy Grail has been destroyed after the events in Fuyuki, the war begins anew in Washington DC. However, a few powerful magicians have tweaked the rules a bit, and all but a few of the masters must fight an uphill battle. With Saber, Giglamesh, and Iskadar returning, will we see another battle of Kings? (Rewriting initial chapters and adding new ones)
1. Chapter 0: Beginning

_The Beginning of an epic,  
A story of the ages,  
__The Japanese legend,  
__brought back and recreated,  
continued for another chapter  
__for American audiences._

_The Holy Grail returns_

_Another war is waiting to begin  
The battle of kings shall resume again  
And a winner will rise  
above the rest  
In a grand battle that will cost many lives_

_Oh Muses, oh daughters of Mnemosyne,  
Smile upon my work with thy divine knowledge  
Inspire me with thy words to tell of this tale_

_The tale of Gabriel Vitali, the high school student,  
Thrown violently into the melee with no warning  
His tale shall begin in the one place he thought safe_

* * *

**Chapter 0 (Prologue), Despair **_(Ver 2. updated)_  
Day one, Thursday

* * *

_Whiz whiz_, **BANG BANG!**

Those sounds, so comical sounding when in fiction, rang in a deafening symphony in my ears. There was nothing cute about this scene though, and my life was in genuine danger. Right now I was protected under a solid concrete staircase, but that cover wouldn't hold for too long, as left and right, solid structures of the school that I had loved crumbled in fantastic explosions. The reverberations from the first one still rang in my head, even though I had already witnessed dozens zoom past my eyes. How I was not dead... I could never tell.

"You have nowhere to run now!"

The familiar voice rang out, as a gilded blade flashed above my head, obliterating whatever was left of the roof. Now, back against the only wall that remained, I was completely exposed to the outside. And there he stood, the golden boy, with his shimmering armor perfectly matching his golden hair and eyes. An aura of importance radiating from every spare inch of his existence. His shadow loomed large like a deadly scarecrow, amplified through the cold and harsh light thrown from the moonlight. What a contrast to the miserable form that I took in front of him.

"Just give up already!"

Give up… there wasn't much else left for me was there? Letting all strength out of my body, I slid down onto the cold brick floor. The school crest, miraculously unbroken, seemed to glow faintly beneath my feet. But what was that worth now? Oh, my life sucked. But why had it fallen apart like this? It had been so promising for most of the 18 years that I had been alive. I had dreams and ambitions, and was almost at the end of my school career, and at the doorstep of college and beyond. Dreams… to become...

_...I want to live..._

Golden boots clinked as their glittering reflection crossed my vision. Looking up, I saw the face of the very person that I despised. His figure drastically changed to that heroic and almost divine power. But his features remained painfully recognizable. Portals of light floated just behind him, like lethal halos, filled with blades that I had never seen, but somehow understood as legendary. I managed to force some words out of my lips, overcoming the sheer weight of fear, despair, and twisted awe that had shut me up until then,

"Charlie… why…"

But his reply hadn't changed,

"You know why Gabe, we've been through this too many times. And I'm going to end it"

* * *

**To be Continued: Chapter 1 - Saber**

* * *

_This Chapter has been reconstructed with more detail, so that I can draw in more fans._


	2. Chapter 1: Saber

**Chapter 1: Saber**

Day one: Thursday

* * *

Where had all of the trouble started? Where had my life started to suck?

I guess it was yesterday. That day, I remember, my alarm clock had completely broken, and I ended up waking up thirty minutes later than usual. In a panic, I had to skip my morning rituals (shower, breakfast, maybe a short run), and dash as fast as I could to make it in time for school, and barely made it in time for first period to start.

My first period class was AP Calculus, or 12th grade senior math with a fancy title. Supposedly there was a big national test near the end of the year, but it seemed that nobody informed Mr. Fordson, the teacher, who spent most of class time recalling his life accomplishments to us instead. That day, he was going on about how he once ran across a terrorist held village armed with only a stolen AK-47, five magazines, and a sandwich. Oh, I forgot to say something important, Mr. Fordson was a Marine veteran who has survived multiple deployments to the Middle East. Some say he also went to Vietnam, but he hasn't told us of any heroics he had there. Anyway, he was going on about another story again, and was about to tie it into some life lesson that we were supposed to be fascinated with. Most of us just stopped caring though, and only gave hollow praise and shout outs so that we wouldn't have to do any real learning in class. Overall, it wasn't a bad experience though, and we collectively referred to this period as "The General's Ethics class", and coined the nickname "General Fortis" for the teacher.

But that day, I was not paying attention to the General's life lessons, as I usually did, but had a more personal issue. I think I might have hit a hot stove or something on the way to school, and there was a nasty burn mark on the back of my hand, and it kinda hurt. I wondered if I should ice it or something, or rub herbal ointment on it. Either way, it was a rather big mark. In fact, it even looked like an outline of some modern art abstract design if you squinted hard enough. But that wasn't an issue. So I basically I spent the rest of the class period thinking about this newest wound of mine with all the biological and medical knowledge that I had.

Eventually the bell rang, and marked the end of the General's latest military story. All of us filed out of the classroom like half-dead sheep, as we wandered towards either the library for quiet study, or the chapel for Catholic mass. A few people, notably those students who wanted to enlist after graduating, remained to chat with the General. That meant that today's story was somewhat interesting. That meant it would give the General confidence. That meant it would be on the next test. Oh crap.

So I trotted up to my two Asian friends to ask about what had happened in class. They were quite easy to spot, since they were usually together, and had very distinct features. Takeshi Kondo, the Japanese dude, was 6"3', had messy pitch black hair, a banged up old blazer jacket, and was usually rather loud during breaks. Yoo Jun Kim, the Korean dude, was 5"5', actually had a decent few gray hairs, always wore sharp classy jackets, and was always (unsuccessfully) trying to be discrete during breaks to avoid attention. That day they seemed to be arguing about something at the entrance of the chapel. I went up to them,

"Hey guys. I was zoning out during General's Ethics class today, could you tell me what happened? I have a feeling it's going to be on the test."

Yoo Jun yawned. He must have spent another one of his crazy all nighters.

"Just come to the library with me and I'll give you the notes. it was—"

But he was cut off by Takeshi,

"C'mon guys, you got to go today at least. Don't you want to see THE Father Wordsridge give one of his sermons?"

"Hmm?"

That was new to me. The Japanese boy looked sharply at me, surprised that I hadn't heard,

"Father Paul Wordsridge, the famous priest at the National Cathedral who may become a bishop soon, who's known for his electrifying sermons. He's visiting our school for a week or so, and will be giving daily mass during that time. Why don't you come and see him?"

It sounded intriguing. Indeed I had heard of this Father before, and had wanted to hear his sermons sometime, so it seemed like a good idea. The Korean had other ideas though,

"We have a rather big World History test today guys… I'm gonna go study for that instead"

He then shuffled away towards the library.

"Strange guy… He's been acting weirder recently don't you think?"

Takeshi and I, along with some others, then entered into the chapel and chatted quietly while we waited for the mass to start. The Japanese boy then asked me,

"Why were you zoning out in math class anyway, it's not very much like you to do that."  
By then, Takeshi was the only person in the entire school to call the General's class "math class". Anyway, I answered truthfully, showing him my burn wound, and asked him what he thought. However, he merely smiled dryly at me and responded,

"You are the biology nut who know more about medicine than my doctor, and read science textbooks on your spare time. Why are you asking me what I think?"

I couldn't answer, a bit embarrassed. Fortunately, he didn't seem offended by my question,

"If anything, you should ask the YJK, since he's probably memorized a few bio books front to back. And mass is starting."

We all hushed then, as Father Wordsridge entered the chapel to the sound of ringing hand bells.

I did not regret going to mass that day. Although the ceremony proceeded as usual, it was not a special feast day or anything, the sermon was indeed very good. The priest preached at length about the weakness of life, the need to be prepared for death at any moment, and the importance of God's grace in leading us to a good end. Especially touching was his personal story of loss when in England, concerning a promising scholar named Lord Kayneth El-Melloi Archibald and his companion Dr. Tokiomi Tohsaka. Both were killed in a tragic disaster upon their visit to Japan.

But this sermon touched me in a way that nobody else would understand. In fact, I too had been involved in a disaster long ago, when I was but seven years old. I did not understand the circumstances too well, but I do remember being on the playground with many of my friends. Hell, I don't remember their faces too well. I don't even remember the real weather. But after the masked men were done with their deeds, I did think it was raining blood. Blood from a dozen or so children and parents, staining every playful structure that had occupied the field. I remember well, as my own vision started to go black with despair and pain, that a woman had jerked me awake. My last vision was of a big white truck with flashing lights, and the white suited woman looking into my face, as my ears were filled with the shriek of sirens and the buzz of medical jargon. Supposedly I was out cold for weeks after that incident, and only woke up after many risky surgeries and treatments. But when I did wake up, and fix my vision upon my surroundings, what captivated my attention was not the joy and happiness upon my parent's faces, or the busy reactions by some rookie nurse. What I remember was the sight of the doctor silently walking out of my room, back turned to me, with relief and victory written all over her stature. I never got to see this doctor's face, as she never visited my room again, but somehow I knew, I was sure of it, that she was the same woman who had saved me on the playground on the day of the incident.

On that instant, I promised that I would become like her.

* * *

Whizzzz **BANG**!

The wall behind me shattered as I was jerked back into reality. The golden boy stood mere feet from me now, towering over my miserable state with a golden blade in his hand. He looked down as if at a rat and spat his words,

"Goodbye Gabriel"

_No_.

I clenched my fists and gnashed my teeth as I remembered my promise to myself eleven years ago.

_I can't die here._

Goddammit, that burn wound or something was positively excruciating now for some reason. But that didn't matter anymore.

"I'm not going to die here. My life was saved."

The golden boy heaved his lance, getting ready to thrust the cursed weapon to take my life.

"I have a promise to fulfill. I can't just get killed here. Not to someone like you…"

The weapon glinted as it started its deadly projectile down towards me. I glared at it with all the energy that I had left. Goddamit my hand was on fire.

"**WHO KILLS PEOPLE LIKE IT MEANS ABSOLUTELY NOTHING**!"

My vison then went white as the lance's glare hit my eyes. I braced myself as best I could to take the hit for what it was worth.

But the hit never came.

Instead I heard a violent clash of metal, along with what could have been a yelp of pain from the golden boy and a forceful gust of icy cold wind. I couldn't be too sure, as my hand was on fire, and my vision still blurry from adrenaline. However, that soon faded, and I saw the dark landscape illuminated by the moonlight. A strange figure stood in front of me, his back towards me, and seemed to hold a weapon that I could not see very well.

And it was magnificent

It wore what looked to be an old style navy blue suit with yellow and white accents, but plated all over with gilded silver plates. Its boots and shin guards, which now stepped to face me, were also similarly wrought out of shining silver. Looking up, I could only gasp as I saw the powerful figure, about six feet tall with messy, dirty blond hair. My gaze then met those powerful green eyes. They seemed to recognize me, as he then lowered his weapon and addressed me,

"Servant Saber, reporting for duty in response to the summons. I ask you."

My heart pumped furiously as I awaited his question. Somehow though, I felt safe.

"Art thou my master?"

* * *

**To be Continued**

* * *

_Thus ends chapter one. What is to come? Tell me in the comments, and wait until next week or so!_


	3. Chapter 2: Gilgamesh

**Chapter 2: Gilgamesh**

Day 1: Thursday

* * *

"Sa…ber"

The word – no, name—no, title – rolled off my tongue naturally as I stared at the figure looming in front of me. Vaguely I remembered the meaning of the word, a part of a story I had read many years ago in an odd but well written book that my father had kept in the family library. It was about a Japanese legend, with seven servants and their masters collaborating to….

"Master. Please. Your command."

Those words snapped me out of my stupor, and violently shoved me back into reality, with all the bruises and pains that it entailed. Instinctively, I clutched at my left hand, still burning with excruciating pain.

"I see. Here, our contract has been forged. From now on I will be your sword."

What?

I had no time to react, as the man who called himself Saber exploded forward, to where the golden boy had been patiently waiting. There was not much that I could tell of this scene, apart from the brilliant showers of sparks that flew by along with the adrenaline pumping noise of battle. Most of this was due to the fact that I was still in complete confusion and shock over what had been happening, but also since all that Saber and the golden boy did were constantly enveloped in a curtain of blinding light. This didn't last for long though, as the enemy leapt onto a higher structure to take a rest. He spoke, a superior air of relaxation evident in his voice,

"That was quite a surprise, swordsman. To think that a heroic spirit like you can keep me entertained mere seconds after being summoned."

"What's wrong Archer." Saber answered. "It isn't like a warrior to cease a battle to chat."

The golden boy chuckled in response. "Let us not be so up tight about it, as I am entertained, Saber. I like your attitude very much though, along with your strange outfit. It reminds me of something special."

A strange smile crept across his face as he watched Saber adjust his armor infused suit.

"Blue, white and gold huh. It sounds so familiar, and I must remember. Tell me of your legend and name, swordsman!"

The tall blond soldier though, refused to answer his question. "I do not wish to reveal my identity so easily, Archer, as I do not fancy handing you the advantage given by the information. However, your identity is unmistakable isn't it?"

"Oh?" The golden boy seemed amused.

"It is said" Saber continued, "that the Archer class contains best equipped of all servants. But there must only be a few servants who display their wealth so extravagantly. Add to that a dominating sense of power as well as a noble phantasm of floating portals, and there can only be one."

The golden boy chuckled at the comments. "Well said, Saber. Well said."

He then raised his right arm to pull a strange weapon out of a golden portal that opened just above his head, and glared at the swordsman.  
"Then, mongrel, do you wish to taste a portion of my most powerful blast?"

A shiver ran down my spine at those words. Although I was nowhere near comprehending what was happening in front of me, the sight of the weapon wielded by the man named Archer caused an instinctive fright to me. It had a beautifully sculpted hilt, yet the 'blade' portion consisted of cylinders of darkness stacked upon each other, inlayed with crimson maze-like designs, rotating in different directions along a common axis. As a weapon it sounded ridiculous, but in reality, it emitted a frightening aura.

Saber though, seemed completely unaffected as he casually glanced around his surroundings and spoke,

"Careful, King of Heroes, that brute weapon of yours is eroding the reality marble you had so meticulously created."

The one named Archer merely grinned at this comment, as he swung the strange… blade in what looked to be an idle and meaningless pattern.

Suddenly, a chorus of cracking sounds filled the air, and all being and space around seemed to disappear like pulverized glass. In the panic, I closed my eyes and covered my ears, but somehow made out the indignant words of the golden boy,

"Farewell Saber, we shall meet again. Until then, you better show that you are worthy to fight me."

* * *

When everything had settled down, I opened my eyes to find that I was crunched up in the corner of the staircase at school. My school. There was no damage to any structure that met my eye. Everything was suddenly quiet, and peaceful. What the heck. Confused, scared, and helpless were but three of the conditions that I was experiencing right now. Oh, and the Saber guy's concern didn't help much either, as he just stared at me, as if waiting for my first move. And I couldn't stand it.

"What the heck dude, aren't you going to do anything?"

The warrior shrugged,

"I was only waiting for you to recover from your shock, master."

There it was again. more confusing information.

"Why do you call me master? Can you please explain everything so that I can understand?"

The man, who had somehow remove his armor and put it away somewhere, adjusted his old fashioned suit and sat down next to me, as if he was preparing for a long conversation. However, his response was less than satisfying,

"You'll want to hear out the circumstances from somebody more involved in the management of these matters. For now I'll just say that I'm your swordsman, and you've just entered into a Holy Grail war. The golden guy you just saw was controlled by Gilgamesh, King of Heroes. He's an Archer class servant."

Great, more confusing facts, with waves of confusion to follow. But the man who called himself Saber was not over,

"Master, it seems that you are not an informed member of the Holy Grail war. Why were you in a position to be attacked by a servant, at 8pm at night, alone at school?"

Hold on. I have just experience twelve times the trauma that I thought I will ever experience in my entire life, and this random swordsman here wants me to explain how that came to be to him? I only glared at him in answer. However, the warrior merely shrugged off my confused anger and restated his question,

"Do not worry, I will soon take you to a person who will be able to explain to you the nature of the war. But before I do that, I must know why you bought the anger of the king of heroes."

I guess that was reasonable. But my story about the delinquent Charles Wagner could take a while. So I adjusted my posture to prepare for a long conversation.

"Don't bother with the long history though"

Huh? Saber's sudden words surprised me. And they sounded strangely familiar as well. Turning sharply towards to the warrior, I saw that his blond hair had dulled to a much darker color, and his height had actually increased a bit… Hold on, I knew this person.

"KONDO!?"

The Japanese boy, still dressed in an archaic style suit, smiled slyly as he awaited my explanation.

* * *

**To be continued**

* * *

_Next chapter(s) preview:_

_Ch3: The full story of Charles Wagner: how and why he attacked our protagonist. Direct recount of the events that led to Saber's summoning._

_Ch4: A thorough investigation into the nature of this holy grail war. Introduce the grand setting. Review the characters/players._

_Ch5: First serious fight, planning for the victory._

_Ch6+: TBA_

* * *

_Please leave a review, follow, and favorite. I shall try to fix and rework any awkward chapters as necessary._


	4. Chapter 3: Charles Wagner

**Chapter 3: Charles Wagner **

Day 1: Thursday

* * *

My talk with the one who introduced himself as Saber, who had suddenly taken the form of my good friend Takeshi, lasted for a good hour or so. It was laborious, kinda went in circles, and was very painful. If it really was the Japanese student, he should have heard half of this story before anyway. However, the… person… next to me listened patiently without objecting or commenting once.

* * *

My history with Charles Wagner was not the simplest one to explain. As it was definitely one of the biggest traumas that I have ever experienced, I tend to not want to talk about it with others. If I were to make an analogy, I guess he would be like the abusive, clingy, and psychotic ex boyfriend whom I, the helpless girl, had dumped after failing to salvage a rapidly declining relationship. The differences being that we were both men. And I was much stronger than him. That was a stupid analogy, sorry.

We had gone to the same school for years, but only started to really talk with each other two years ago. Some day, after winter sports practice, I'd asked him for a ride to the nearest metro station, as I had finished practice really late that day, and I had just missed the hourly bus by 5 minutes. He was a nice guy, kinda muscular upper body, about 5" 10' and had noticeably stylish hair that can only be described as "burnt brown". We got along well. Our schedules were similar, with his boxing club practice usually ending around the same time as my baseball winter training, and we spontaneously became best buddies. If you've ever read Moby Dick, it was similar to how the main character Ishmael spontaneously picked up his new best buddy Queequeg. We were definitely as close as they had been. However, the rosy light of friendship soon ended for us, as I found out his hidden clingy yet assertive personality that bordered mental illness, as well as his addiction to alcohol, and tobacco. I guess it was my fault for even attempting to fix up his life, or continuing to try for one and a half years. But I'll refrain from explaining my efforts, as I don't want to sound like the script of a bad soap opera. A very bad soap opera. It all ended very ungracefully when I had enough and cut off all connections to him over the summer, and that had gone surprisingly well for about half a year.

And then today happened.

Today I had stayed very late at school as a part of the baseball team's "elite workouts" for the starting players. This merely meant that our lazy coach would assign us a long distance run followed by "1k reps" total of various drills. There was no way that these made any sense, but it was not as if I had a choice to skip. To make matters worse though, as the most athletic non-captain on the team, I was given the honor of cleaning up alone. Maybe coach would have changed this unfair rule that the captain created if I had complained, but it wasn't something worth whining about, as I didn't consider it much of a burden. In fact, today was very sunny, and I was looking forward to a good view of the gigantic full moon that graced the night sky this time of year. As an astrology enthusiast living around Washington DC, this was as close as I would get to real stargazing without going on long trips.

It was just when I had finished up all the cleaning tasks that I noticed that my ol' nemesis was creepily staring at me, two hours or so after even the longest of boxing practices should have taken. Even though I avoided him at all costs, he would at times try to get me alone and rekindle our hopeless friendship. These events were generally unpleasant for both of us, but nothing more than a minor annoyance physically. I didn't even need my bat when he attacked me with a knife a month or so ago.

As usual, I ignored him today when he approached me to try to "talk things out", as I had found that avoiding eye contact usually made him give up. It did hit me though that his long-ish hair seemed to have lost its signature "burnt" look, and that he seemed just a bit taller. However, I simply blamed this on the harsh moonlight and moved forward. That was when he threw a question to me, sounding strangely calm while angry,

"This is the last chance" he had said, "let's fix this up before it's too late."

He never spoke like that. The Charles Wagner that I knew was timid, indecisive, and wimpy. So you can't blame me for having to respond strongly to prevent myself from looking that way instead.

"You know we can't Wagner. We've been through this too many times. End it already—what the…"

I had turned to face the boy as I spat out my reply, but when I looked, my eyes did not meet a dull kid from boxing club. Instead I faced a gigantic figure, clad in ostentatious armor that gleamed its golden shine from within. The man who wore it still held some of Wagner's facial features, but the rest of his body was unrecognizable. He also held a weapon, a small curved blade with a jeweled handle that he held in a menacing pose as he glared at me.

"As you wish Gabriel."

With those words, he hacked at me with the weapon, but displayed genuine speed and skill. I was actually worried to say the least. And when he effortlessly sliced the bat I held with his next swipe, I was genuinely scared. The bat was specially crafted from automobile grade high tension steel for practice purposes. A blade that could cut through that shouldn't exist.

Somehow I had managed to outrun him from the field to the gymnasium, through the music hall, past the second gym, and to the main building. Also, I thought I had won when I tricked him into throwing his weapon away on the way there. It was only later that I learned that he could pull more weapons from mysterious light portals that appeared behind him. The rest need not be explained.

* * *

Takes—…Saber nodded quietly as I finished my explanation. He had a very serious expression on his face and was muttering something under his breath, but I wasn't sure if he had actually been listening. His concentration seemed to have drifted away around the 2 minute mark of my story. But that was the least of my issues,

"Tell me then" I said, "Why was Wagner able to do that kind of stuff? What was that blade made out of? How did he destroy the school, and make it come back again?"

The boy stood up from the ground, wincing a bit, and casually started to do athletic stretches. Annoyed that he was ignoring me I started to repeat my question. He immediately cut me off though,

"I'm sorry master, but I wouldn't be the best to explain that to you. I suggest we go to somebody that specializes at that."

Great, so did I just waste an hour of my time recounting traumatic experiences? I was a bit bothered by Takeshi's way of talking though. Why had he called me 'master'? And his voice had suddenly gained a noticeable British accent. I needed explanations immediately, and desperately demanded them.

"Where, oh Saber, will this person be?"

Saber seemed to have heard me well this time and answered quickly,

"This school… has a chapel I believe. There is no doubt that the priest there is the overseer of the war."

Now there was a war involved. And the church. My head might as well explode.

* * *

_**To be Continued: Chapter 4: Rejoice**_

* * *

_Thank you everybody for keeping up with my story!  
I have been working on upgrades as well as new chapters, so please go back and check if you thought they were of inferior quality.  
This time around, I have reworked Chaper 0, as well as the story digest.  
I will update Chater 1 and 2 soon, and maybe 3 as well.  
_

_I tried my best with this chapter, but I starting to dislike first hand narration through Vitali's perspective.  
I might need to rethink how to present it in a more interesting way.  
Good action should come soon though, with the final exposition chapter, The Church, coming up soon.  
I know it is tough, but good stories need a bulky buildup.  
I promise that two chapters from now will be good action.  
However, I will heavily restructure Chapter 2 with much more fighting,  
Because waiting until Chapter 5 for a good fight is just too cruel to the readers._

_So please review, fav, follow, or just read. Thank you for all your support, and I look forward to updating soon._

_P.S: Please check out my other stories as well. Since this is my main story, the others are oneshots with the purpose of polishing specific parts of my writing technique. They tend to be short and cool. _


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